


It's a Courtship, If You Squint

by Simplistically_content



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek's Pack - Freeform, Doctor Stiles, F/M, Family, Flirting, Growling, Hale family alive, Hells Angels Rejects, Hospital-ish!AU, M/M, Mama Stilinski Alive, Pack Dynamics, Stiles Works Too Hard, medical situations NOT ACCURATE - DON'T JUDGE MY LACK OF RESEARCH, pregnant Laura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 19:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simplistically_content/pseuds/Simplistically_content
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They should've eloped. It had to be better than their mothers conspiring and planning their wedding before they'd even had their first kiss, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Courtship, If You Squint

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a genuine Hospital!AU, then it turned into this. I'm not sure what 'this' is exactly, just know that I'm not happy with it. Not even… 60% happy with it, but I'm willing to post it to get people's opinions.
> 
> I'm not entirely sure what the dynamic is between Stiles and Derek, I just wrote how I was feeling at the time - sometimes I was tired, sometimes I was playful, sometimes I just wanted Derek to mark him. *shrug*
> 
> On the medical side of things - I didn't research anything. Like… at all. It's mostly memory from watching Grey's Anatomy (that shit's amazing, don't even say anything against my baby), that's where I got the ideas for the scrubs outfits anyway. Anyone who's watched it will know what I mean when I refer to them wearing long scrub coats after they leave the OR.
> 
> I almost wanted to write more… but I thought it ended fine the way it did. So there's no sex, just intentions. Very clear intentions. You're smart folk, you can imagine.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it hah!

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I’ve got an hour till I’m out, hit me with your best shot,” Stiles didn’t actually mean to slam his clipboard on the elevated desk but he did, and he leaned over, smirking down at Danny, who had been on the phone organising an x-ray transfer. He stared at Stiles for a long, considering moment and smirked right back.

“T-3, RTA, Motobike/Car collision, conscious and adorable,” Danny winked. “But he’s got company. FYI.”

“Am I supposed to be shaking?” Stiles raised an eyebrow, taking the clipboard and exchanging it for the one he’d had. A glance down at the chart made him whistle through his teeth. “Nurses?” he asked without looking up. 

“McCall’s already in there.” 

“Which one?” Stiles loved his best friend, he truly did, but they couldn’t work together in the ER. No way. It was actually hospital policy - or so his mom said. She’d made it law. 

“Mama McCall. Scott’s on three with post-ops for your mom.”

“Lucky bastard,” Stiles muttered and heard a ‘ _preach’_ from Danny, who raised a hand for Stiles to high-five, which he totally did because any opportunity, right? “Seriously, what’s got you all superior about this one?” he waved the clipboard but Danny just laughed, waving him away and picking up the phone again.

“Any Doctor for T-3?” he heard Mama McCall shout and he blinked at how _annoyed_ she sounded. 

“Right here,” he walked over, frowning. “Everything okay?” he asked and she just huffed, holding the door open for him. “Ah,” he snorted. “You taught me everything I know, what’s the problem?” he asked her, ignoring the room’s inhabitants.

“I don’t have an MD on the end of my name.”

“Amateurs,” he snorted and she graced him with a smile so full of love and awesome he leaned over to kiss her cheek out of sheer sweetness. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you cupcakes, might even stick it on his insurance as compensation,” he winked and gestured her back to the bed. “If you would all step away from the bed, line up against the back wall and act like civilised human beings I _know_ your mother’s raised you to be, I’ll have a look at your friend. If you don’t, I’ll have you all arrested for obstruction.”

“What’re we obstructing?” A blonde hellion asked, or growled. 

“My view of his pretty face,” he pointed to one of the ‘crowd’ and the others in the group sniggered. “Move it or lose it sister,” he tapped the clipboard against the side of the bed sharply, staring them all down.

“You sure you’re qualified? You look like you’re fucking 12,” the woman groused, but obligingly moved back after a grunt from the one Stiles had pointed at.

“Old enough to have gone through med-school, and become double-board certified, earn a PhD and totally own my own two story loft conversion,” he rattled off and finally turned to the bed. “Isaac Lahey, Danny was right, you _are_ adorable,” he grinned at the kid, who blushed, and winced as he tried to shift in his bed. “Yeah, no moving unless I say so, kid.”

“Stiles,” a head poked through the door and Stiles looked up, grinning at Allison.

“Scott in trouble again?” he asked and Melissa huffed, tossing a glove at his head for the slight.

“Nope, he said he’d marry your mom if, y’know, she wasn’t already married or he wasn’t already marrying me.”

“Everyone wants to marry my mom, she’s amazing,” his eyes cut down to the kid on the bed who was giving him a weird look. “I don’t want to marry my mom,” he clarified. “She’s my mom. I’m already exposed to her awesomeness, obviously,” he rolled his eyes as if the kid had slighted him somehow and gently lifted his shirt to get a look at the hastily dressed damage. “Was there something you needed, Ally? You’re a beauty to behold but I’m about to make this kid very uncomfortable and I don’t think he wants a pretty girl watching him try not to cry...” Allison, bless her, giggled.

“Yeah, Laura’s looking for you.”

“When _isn’t_ Laura looking for me?” he rolled his eyes. 

“She needs your signature on some paperwork,” Allison replied, giving Isaac a sympathetic look when he flinched as Stiles put pressure on a particularly tender wound. “She said, no, it can’t be your mother because your mother has already signed her half of it.”

“I’m out in an hour, tell her I’ll come up after this?” he turned to Melissa. “Could you-” he stopped and grinned at her already outstretched hands. “You’re a dream,” he cooed and she rolled her eyes.

“She said if you make her come down here she’s putting any hospital bills she might incur with any, and I mean _any_ infection she might get while down here, on your bank statement.”

“She can’t get sick,” Stiles said easily. “Literally. Her immune system is _feral_ when it comes to infections, she’ll tell you herself!”

“Her words! She’ll do it just to make your bank manager squirm!” with a wave, she left the room and Stiles chuckled, cleaning one of the open wounds on Isaac’s side. 

“Word of advice kid, never get between a lawyer and your signature.”

“Can you shut the fuck up and get on with your damn job?” the girl from earlier snarled and Stiles locked eyes with Melissa over Isaac’s mid-section.

“What do you think, Isaac? Is my talking not distracting you from the pain? Is my acting like a spaz not making you think of ‘man, he’s a total spaz’ and not ‘man, I can see my intestines from here’? Because I’d wager your pain just went up a notch or five, didn’t it?” Isaac, obligingly, bit his lip to stop himself from making a noise. “Miss, if you don’t keep quiet I will have you removed,” he went on and started stitching up the wound he’d just cleaned and sterilised. 

“Erica,” a deep, rumbling voice spoke up and Stiles just assumed it was the hot one. Not a peep more was heard from the woman, _Erica_ , though, so Stiles counted it as a win.

Twenty minutes, 47 stitches, four dressings and one dose of pain medication later, Isaac was being wheeled out of the room and was on his way to x-ray. Stiles thought he had at least a broken leg, maybe an arm too.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked when the waiting group, who had been silent after his outburst, made to go after Isaac. “I really hope you don’t think they’re actually going to let you into radiology with him,” he said, amused and Erica looked about ready to throttle him.

“They’ll let us in,” she growled but Stiles clucked his tongue, picking up a few fallen dressings and dumping them into the biohaz bin. He saw a clean-up crew heading his way through the blinds and gestured for them all to follow him as he walked out. It took a few seconds, but eventually he was leading a procession of what looked to be junior Hell’s Angels through the ER - which had turned silent. 

“You will all sit here,” he spun around and stared at them all, four to be precise. Erica, the hot one, a tall, dark one and a guy that didn’t look much older than Isaac. “And you will wait until the wondrous being that is Doctor Mahalaeni lets you know where Isaac is being sent after his x-ray. Don’t antagonise anyone, try not to intimidate anyone and OAPs get priority seating. You _will_ adhere to these rules if you want to see your friend before he’s released, got it?” he raised an eyebrow, waiting until the hot one nodded his head once, not looking too happy about it. 

“Stiles!” he heard and spun around, grinning widely.

“Laura! I told Allison I’d be up as soon as I could! You didn’t have to come down here!” he started walking towards her but stopped at the desk when it was clear she wasn’t going to stop and turn around with him. He handed a copy of Isaac’s paperwork to Danny.

“I just met Isaac Lahey on the elevator,” she said and Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“You know him?”

“Vividly,” she said dryly and looked around Stiles towards the waiting area, eyes showing recognition. “I see you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my brother and his _pack_ ,” she said conversationally and let Stiles drag her around so they were both leaning back against the desk, openly staring at the group who had yet to notice they were being stared at.

“Is it the hot one? in the middle?”

“The grumpy one, scruff on his face, face like thunder-”

“Cheekbones to die for, Laura, I knew your family had to be beautiful but this is ridiculous,” Stiles breathed and she laughed. Finally, Erica noticed them staring and she nudged the hot one, scowl on her face. When the hot one looked up, his eyes widened and Stiles saw Laura wave, a smirk painted on her lips. The hot one stood up and walked towards them, gesturing for his friends to stay behind.

“Laura,” he said, gruff and ready.

“Derek,” a name!

“I can’t believe your genes are that generous,” Stiles said. “I think I might hate your mother if I didn’t love her chocolate pudding recipe so much,” he said to Laura, who looked smug.

“Your mom has everyone in awe over her medical skills, mine has everyone in awe of her cooking.” They stared at each other.

“They should never meet.” They said, as one, eyes wide and slightly fearful.

“I thought you had tonight off?” Derek spoke again and Laura turned to him, shrugging.

“I work for a hospital, things happen at all hours. Don’t ask me, its his hospital,” she pointed to Stiles, who scowled, and prodded her side but kinda left his hand there and went to stroke her swollen belly instead, because he was _Stiles_ and whenever he was in her office he’d totally talk the thing to sleep for her. “She’s already asleep, don’t wake her up,” Laura patted his hand and he huffed.

“That’s totally my godchild in there, I’m claiming rights. I’m the only one who can get her to sleep!” he was met with Laura’s amused, indulgent expression but he didn’t care, he was totally godfather material.

“Can you guarantee not to spoil her rotten?” 

“Are you kidding? That’s my _job_ ,” he rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I might own half the hospital but I don’t make the problems up that have you in at all hours.”

“Whatever, I have a pile of papers for you to read and sign before you leave tonight.”

“Oh Lady of my heart, I would do anything for you,” he bowed his head dramatically and grinned when she ruffled his hair.

“Mom wants you at the house on Saturday for dinner,” Laura said to Derek, who shifted where he stood, looking confused at how comfortable they were being with each other. Stiles though confused was a very funny look on the hottie. He was totally getting more information from Laura. Oh yes.

“I’ll be there. Do you want me to bring anything?” he asked.

“Bring the pups. Mom likes to spoil them,” she was grinning at his scowl, but he nodded nonetheless. “Come on Romeo, if you stop drooling over my brother I’ll tell you all the juicy childhood stories,” she linked her arm with Stiles, who grinned, sending a wink at Derek, who was now looking _horrified_ , and they walked away. 

“So that’s the hot brother,” he said idly as they waited for the elevator. 

“Yup, hey,” she said when he raised an eyebrow at her. “I may be his sister but I’m not blind. Dude’s smokin’, much like me, and Cora, and Ben... and mom, and dad, and Peter, and Georgia...”

“I hate you and your beautiful genetics,” he lamented but she just laughed at him and they got into the elevator.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

“You look like Hell’s Angel’s rejects,” Stiles said and realised it might not be the smartest thing for him to say given how they weren’t actually inside the hospital now and there was nothing stopping Erica from braining him with his own car. Eh, he took chances. “What? You do!” he threw his bag into his car and leaned on his roof, staring at the gathered group of bikers that were staring at him. Isaac had indeed broke his leg, and Laura had bullied Stiles into giving the kid a ride home because his bike had also been totalled. “if you start following me, I’m calling the cops and giving the operator all your licence plates. I have an eidetic memory, I know them all now.”

“We’re following you to Isaac’s,” Derek said, once again, gruff.

“Find another route. I’m a very nervous driver. Do you want him to have a heart attack because I can’t control the car because you’re making me so freaking nervous? Find another route or I’ll just pull over and wait for the cops to arrest you all for unlawful harassment.”

“You seem to know a lot about the different charges that can be doled out,” the one that wasn’t Derek, or Erica, or the tall dark one, pointed out, amused.

“Dad’s the Sheriff,” Stiles shrugged and they all, bar Derek, groaned. “No following!” he repeated and slipped inside the car, slamming the door shut and starting the engine. When they were on the road, Stiles watched until he saw Derek gesturing and sighed with relief when they all turned off.

“You’re very opinionated,” Isaac said from the passenger seat. “And fearless. Not many would stand toe to toe with Erica, let alone Derek, and shoot them down like you did tonight. I think Erica wants to kill you and Derek looked mostly annoyed by your existence.” Stiles snorted.

“Got your mind off the pain though didn’t it?” He caught the smile Isaac sent him and grinned. “So you live with any of the Hell’s Angels rejects?” he asked, smirking when Isaac laughed.

“I live with Erica and Boyd, the tall black guy?” Stiles nodded. More names! Result! “Ethan, the other guy, lives with his twin, who rides, but had to work tonight. Derek had a loft on _Industrial._ ”

“You seem a little young to be living away from home if you’re not in college... I mean, I’m not judging. I was living on my own at 16 because I’m this prodigy or something and I went to college two years early - and before you _assume_ , yes, my mom and dad paid for my tuition but I’ve since paid them back every cent and made a pretty penny or two so while they helped, I got where I am on my own merit.”

“I wasn’t going to assume,” Isaac mumbled, a little cowed and Stiles frowned.

“It’s happened before,” he explained. “Are you okay?” he reached over to press the back of his hand to Isaac’s head, gasping when the kid flinched. “Hey,” he said, pulling over and putting the car into park. “There’s no need for flinching, I won’t hurt you,” he said, keeping his voice calm and soothing.

“I know,” Isaac growled, annoyed more with himself than with Stiles. “Sorry,” he sighed. “I didn’t mean to react like that - I still get.” he just stopped talking and clammed up. Stiles watched him for another few seconds before he nodded.

“Not gonna push, okay? But,” he reached into the centre console and pulled out a business card, handing it to Isaac, who took it without a word. “My cell’s on the back if you want to talk about anything, any time. I don’t mind, okay?”

When they were driving again, they were silent until he turned a corner and saw a group of bikes waiting outside a house.

“It’s not... listen,” Isaac said as Stiles slowed to pull up to the curb. “It’s not _them_ , okay? They helped me get out. They _helped_. Laura helped get me emancipated, she’s even got me in community college. I just - I need you to not drive away thinking it’s them, okay? You can ask your dad if you want, he handled my case. The Sheriff, right?” Stiles nodded slowly, putting the car into park again before he turned to Isaac.

“It’s not them,” he said and Isaac nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Stiles smiled.

“Okay.”

“Can I still...” the card twisted between his fingers and Stiles chuckled, nodding his head.

“Of course you can, medical emergency or if you just want an unbiased ear, I’m available, okay?”

“Is it standard practise to give your cell number out to your patients? Isaac asked and Stiles snorted.

“Hell no. But Laura considers you family so I imagine you’re pretty important. I love Laura like she’s my own sister so I respect her opinions. You’re no exception.”

They were interrupted by a knocking on the hood of his car and he glanced up to see Erica glaring at him. He snorted. “I bet she doesn’t hear the word _no_ very often, does she?” Isaac just laughed and pushed open the door, letting himself be hauled up by Boyd, carefully mind.

“Thanks Stiles,” he waved and Stiles watched until the group was safely inside before he drove away.

Getting home felt amazing. His shower felt amazing. His bed felt amazing.

And then his phone rang.

He reached out blindly towards his bedside table until he found it and blindly hit answer before putting it to his ear. “I’m asleep go away,” he slurred.

_“Stiles?”_ he recognised the voice, and frowned.

“Why do you have my number, Derek Hale, brother of Laura Hale?” he mumbled into the receiver.

_“Got it from Isaac,”_ the ‘obviously’ was left ringing through Stiles’ head like a reminder of his unfailing stupidity. And Stiles wasn’t stupid, by any stretch.

“Was there a reason you got my number from Isaac or were you just overawed by my complete disregard for your obvious pack authority that you felt the need to express you intense distaste over the carrier waves?”

_“For someone so tired, you’re remarkably articulate.”_

“It’s a gift,” he retorted.

_“I wasn’t calling to call you out on that,”_ the ‘yet’ was left unsaid and Stiles rolled his eyes behind closed lids.

“Awesome, because I really couldn’t give a rat’s ass, about authority that isn’t my own, my mothers or the nurses when inside my hospital. Y’know, for future reference.”

_“You expect there to be future incidents?”_ he was smirking, Stiles could hear it.

“You ride on death traps, call it a hunch.”

_“I was calling,”_ he finally got to the point and Stiles could’ve cried. _“To thank you, for helping Isaac out tonight, and for talking him down in the car.”_ Stiles frowned. _“He told me what he did, how he reacted to you and how you talked him down. I just wanted to thank you for that.”_

“I’m not sure if I should be insulted that you think I want the thanks for doing my job.”

_“I know you don’t need it, but I’m giving you it, because Isaac’s had a rough few years and he’s finally getting himself sorted. You helped him tonight. That deserves thanks.”_

Stiles waited for almost 20 seconds (at least, he didn’t know, he was tired dammit) before he took a breath to talk. “Your pack still looks like Hell’s Angels rejects,” he heard low laughter and a murmured _Goodnight Stiles,_ before the line went dead and he dropped his phone to the bed, reaching out and pulling the light blanket over him before succuming to the Sandman’s dust of awesome.

It was totally addictive. 

 

\---

At 7:30am the next day (or the same day, depending on your perspective) he walked into work to utter _chaos_.

The ER was packed, police were on site, nurses were running around, most looked confused, most of the residents were looking like lost lambs, the year 4 residents were looking a little worse for wear and he just stared, his eyes wide, tempted to back away and go home again.

“Stiles!” he heard Mrs McCall shout and looked over as the woman made her way over to him, an intense look of relief on her face. “Did they call you in? Nevermind, we need every hand available-”

“I’m not on call today,” Stiles said but he was still staring at the room. “I’m just here to do paperwork, what _happened?!_ ” he asked. 

“Ten car pile-up in rushhour traffic on the freeway heading into the city. 15 dead already, 3 in surgery, your mom’s already in with one, Lydia with another-”

“Wait, Lydia? She’s a resident! Is she being supervised?”

“No one’s in, Stiles! Please!” she was giving him the look. He hated that look. He was powerless against that look. He was glad the look couldn’t be taught because Laura had offered Melissa _money_ to teach her it to get Stiles to do whatever she wanted. Like he didn’t already.

“Fine,” he sighed and she released a huge sigh of relief.

At exactly 9:00pm he rolled out of the hospital with about as much grace and poise as a bull at a bullfight, groaning when he slumped in the drivers seat of his car. He had 10 ops in too many hours. No chance for pre op or post op, he would have stayed to check them all over but he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t be in there anymore and Melissa had thanked him profusely for helping and told him to go home, she’d take care of his post-ops and would give him the reports on Monday.

He picked up his phone and dialled a number before tossing it on the passenger seat and turning on the bluetooth in his car. He turned the engine over and reversed out as the call connected.

_“Hello?”_  

“Laura,” he sighed. “Are you still at your moms?” he asked.

_“Yeah, we’re just about to have dessert,”_ she was grinning, he could tell, and he chuckled. 

“Awesome, would she mind if I stopped by and grabbed a bite? I’d go somewhere else but I’m literally about ready to collapse right now. I’m driving on fumes.”

_“What? Of course you can! Come on over, she’ll love to see you again!”_ they said goodbye and he let the call end on her end, doing his best to concentrate on the road until he’d very carefully and very methodically parked up outside the Hale family home. Laura was waiting for him on the porch with her mom and the smiles on their faces turned to frowns when they caught sight of him properly during his walk up the garden path.

“What happened?” Laura asked, pulling him into a hug when he was close enough, her mom not far behind.

“You know the ten car pile up on the freeway this morning?” he asked and they nodded. “I went into work to get paperwork done and it was chaos. I was in the OR from 7:45am till just gone 8:30 this evening. I did every form of surgery in my repertoire and my hands are killing me.” They led him into the house, avoiding the loud chaos that was the dining room and taking him straight the kitchen where he settled himself at the breakfast bar at their pushing. “I’m sorry to invite myself over, Mrs Hale,” he said through a yawn. “I just couldn’t drive any further.”

“Think nothing of it child!” she waved his words away. “I made more than enough for everyone so I have plenty of leftovers. I’ll just make you up a plate okay?”

“I don’t want to be rude, but could I maybe... eat in here? Away from the masses? I’m so sorry about all this Mrs Hale,” he knew he looked pathetic and needy but he was beyond caring. He just needed food, energy and enough about him to get himself home afterwards.

“I said it’s fine, Stiles,” she smiled, setting a steaming plate of amazing food in front of him and he could’ve cried he was so happy. “Eat up dear, I’ll be in shortly when they’ve finished demolishing desert.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Laura asked, hanging back.

“Just exhausted. I still haven’t decided if I’m going in tomorrow to check on my post-ops," he groaned as the first bite touched his tongue, pledging his undying love for her mother and she chuckled, patting him on the shoulder and leaving him alone. He pulled out some paperwork and opened it out on the breakfast bar beside his plate, making notes here and there until he went down to the plate for another bite and there was nothing there. “Damn,” he murmured, going back to the paperwork instead of lamenting his lack of food.

“Oh,” a voice said behind him and Stiles jumped. He’d totally admit it, he wasn’t ashamed. The Hale’s were stupid stealth ninjas, he’d always thought so.

“That’s it, you’re all getting bells,” he groused, getting back in his chair and turning his head to see Derek walking around the breakfast bar towards the sink where he deposited a stack of dirty dishes. 

“I didn’t realise you were here,” he said.

“You’re mom is my hero and I needed energy otherwise I’d have crashed my car.”

“Bad day at work?” he asked, leaning against the breakfast bar behind an empty seat between them. He had a concerned look on his face that confused Stiles, mostly because they didn’t know one another at all, despite the fact that Laura had outed him the night before.

“Just a bad day to be a doctor,” Stiles muttered, making a notation on a piece of paperwork, signing and dating it.

“Should you really be working on medical stuff if you’re so tired?” Derek asked. “You said you had an eidetic memory, you could work on this after sleep and still remember everything..”

“Look, Derek, you’re great, your concern is touching but I’ve had a really, _really_ bad day. I lost six patients, two of whom were children under the age of five, I told a teenage _olympic_ hopeful that she wouldn’t be able to pull back a bow string because the muscle damage in her dominant arm was too severe to heal, I’ve seen broken legs with bones sticking out, crushed pelvises with no chance of healing and this afternoon, on my one break, I was in a corridor holding an old ladies hand while she slipped away because I couldn’t do anything _more_ for her. And tomorrow I have to do it all again so please, thank you for the concern, but I just need to work through this on my own, okay?” 

He stared at Derek, already regretting his outburst but unwilling to take the words back, waiting for him to react until finally, almost a full minute after he’d stopped talking, Derek straightened. From the stiff movements and frozen features on his face, Stiles expected Derek to punch him or _something_ , but instead the man just nodded once and left him alone. Stiles turned back to his paperwork and sighed. Ten minutes or so later, the door opened again. 

“Stiles, that can wait,” Laura was suddenly beside him, reaching out to close the folders and he was powerless against her firm stare.

“I snapped at your hot brother,” he admitted, watching her put the folders into a pile then slide them into his bag. “He was being nice and I basically told him to fuck off.” 

“I know,” she was smiling though, which made Stiles question her sanity, or his own, he wasn’t sure anymore. “He’ll get over it. You’ve had a bad day, Stilinski.”

“I feel like a tool,” he sighed, leaning forward and resting his head on his folded arms.

“Like I said, you have an excuse,” she shrugged. “I take it you enjoyed the food?” her lips twitched as she gestured to his spotless plate and he grinned up at her sleepily.

“Your mom is amazing,” he slurred.

“How much sleep did you get last night?” she was frowning now, reaching out and resting the back of her hand against his forehead.

“I got in at half 12, got to sleep at around 1, your brother called me at some point and I woke up _today_ at half 6.”

“You need sleep,” she sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Let me be your babies godfather,” he answered, slurring still, eyes closed. “M’tired,” he mumbled and that’s the last thing he remembered before he was being jostled. He could barely open his eyes to take note of the fact that Derek, the guy he’d told to get lost earlier, was picking him up _very carefully_ , while apparently, the entire Hale clan watched, amused.

“You know where he lives?” he heard Laura ask but because he was now frowning up at Derek, he saw the man roll his eyes.

“Yes Laura, you programmed it into my phone.”

“Do be careful with him, Derek,” Mrs Hale was suddenly there, looking down at Stiles fondly and he gave her a half smile.

“ _Food good,_ ” he decided that he hated the fact that he slurred when tired, but she seemed to find it endearing as she chuckled, leaning down to kiss his forehead before letting them go. _“Where’re we going?”_ he asked, eyes closed, shuffling until his head was tucked up comfortably against Derek’s chest.

“I’m taking you home,” Derek’s voice rumbled and Stiles sighed.

“ _Didn’t m’n t’ snap before,_ ” he said but Derek either didn’t hear him or just didn’t want to acknowledge him so Stiles did the wise thing and shut up, going back to sleep, evidently not even waking when he was placed in his car because the next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake.

“What’s your alarm code?” Derek asked, face only inches from Stiles’ own and the closeness made Stiles gasp and his eyes widen, but not enough for him to flail as he was prone to.

“You have pretty eyes,” he said instead of telling Derek the alarm code, delighting in watching the aforementioned eyes widen, then roll, then narrow, all in the space of three seconds.

“If I go into your house now and the alarm goes off, there’s no chance you’ll get to sleep tonight.”

“How’d you know how loud my alarm is?” Stiles asked and Derek just went straight to rolling his eyes that time. “Fine,” he muttered. “2967.” He became aware of Derek maneuvering them both around the obstacles within Stiles’ home until they finally made it to the bedroom and he was set on the bed gently, his bag put on the desk afterwards. He lay still, wondering why Derek was being so nice, not noticing anything until his feet suddenly felt cold and he realised Derek had taken off his shoes and socks. “Hey,” he said, grasping the other man’s hands before they could reach for his belt. “Thanks,” he went on. “For this, after earlier...” Derek raised an eyebrow. “I was a dick. I was tired and I’m sorry for basically telling you to fuck off.”

“You had a bad day,” he said by way of explanation and _Stiles_ felt like rolling his eyes this time. _Hales!_

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m sorry, and thank you.” Derek just continued to stare at him, seemingly intrigued by the enigma that was Stiles. Well, Stiles wasn’t exactly an enigma, it didn’t take a genius to figure him out, though Scott seemed to think it required superior brain power. Dammit! Derek had been talking-

“-undressed yourself?” 

Stiles sighed. _Of course._

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was an entire week before Stiles saw Derek again. Laura had kept him updated of course, not that he’d asked her to, but he thought she’d taken it upon herself to force their hands and get them together. She knew Stiles liked Derek, and Stiles found out that she knew Derek liked him back so, in her mind, mathematical laws dictate something hot and sweaty should happen between the pair of them. When she said that though, she thought about it and made a face denoting how ‘icky’ she found the thought of her brother doing the nasty to be, and quickly backtracked why staying _on_ track. Laura was nothing if not talented!

When Derek walked into the lobby with Isaac, Stiles was walking away from some relatives, Scott beside him, both of them dressed in OR scrubs, caps and long scrub coats.

“Doctor Stilinski!” he heard someone call out and turned, his eyes widening when he saw the approaching pair. Beside him, Scott watched on, interested.

“Isaac,” he smiled. “You haven’t gotten yourself into anymore accidents I hope?” He raised an eyebrow as Isaac grinned, shaking his head a negative. “Scott,” he turned to his friend. “This is Isaac Lahey, he was in last week with the Hells Angels rejects I told you about?” Scott’s eyes shone with recognition as he grinned, turning to Isaac.

“Nice to meet you dude, heard _all_ about the bikes cluttering up the parking lot last week,” he reached out and shook Isaac’s hand.

“The grumpy one is Laura’s brother,” Stiles supplied, smiling innocently when the grumpy look was directed at him.

“Laura? Hale?” Scott frowned. “I didn’t know she had a brother. Nice to meet you, man,” he grinned, not at all put off by Derek’s nod of acknowledgment.

“Right, I’m officially on my lunch, can you check my post-ops before you go on yours?” he asked, handing over the chart he’d been holding. Scott nodded, waved at Isaac and left. “You hear for a follow-up?” Stiles asked Isaac, who was remarkably steady on his crutches. Whether or not that was because he knew Derek was strong enough to catch him should the worst happen, Stiles had no idea.

“Yeah,” Isaac said, frowning down at the appointment card in his hand. “But I’m supposed to be with you, in like, half an hour.” He handed the card to Stiles, who looked down at it.

“Ah, that’s not me, that’s my mom,” he grinned. “Laura probably mentioned it in passing and she’s just being nosy.”

“I’ll have you know young man, that I’m not being nosy, I’m simply looking to keep Laura’s stress levels _down_ , if that means checking in one of her charges, then sobeit.” Despite the chastising, Stiles grinned, spinning around to see his mother stood there, eyes dancing.

“Am I not good enough for Laura now?” he asked with a laugh as she rolled her eyes, stepping around to greet Isaac and Derek.

“Isaac, why don’t you and I go into an exam room, I have a bit of free time, would you believe it,” Isaac agreed at the encouraging nods from both Derek and Stiles. “Stiles, would you keep Mr Hale company? Thanks ever so much,” she was smirking, Stiles knew she was smirking, he just couldn’t prove it, but judging from the way Isaac bit his lip as he glanced back while they walked away, the smile he was trying to hide was very indicative of his mother _smirking_. 

“I think my mom and your sister are trying to set us up,” he said idly and heard Derek snort.

“Are you kidding? I’ve heard nothing _but_ from Laura and my own mother all damn week.” Stiles’ eyes widened.

“Your mom and my mom, not meeting. Never meeting, got it?” he tried to impress upon Derek the seriousness of his words but Derek just sighed, a little dejected. 

“I think Laura has us outgunned on this one. They’ll meet at some point in the very near future and our lives as we know them to be, will cease being so free.”

“You’re remarkably calm about the prospect of waht is effectively becoming an arranged marriage...”

“To be honest, I think we’re making a mountain out of a molehill here,” Derek shrugged. “We’re spurred on by the mere threat of what they can do together that we’re working on preempting their meddling ways.”

“I can live with that,” Stiles nodded. “Can you?”

“That depends...” His eyes narrowed slightly. “On how you feel about _riding_ those so-called death machines.” Stiles’ eyes widened and he started backing away slowly.

“Nope,” he said, adamant. “Don’t even say it. I’m not doing it. You’ll never get me on one of those machines.”

“You know,” Derek smirked, following every step Stiles was taking. “Laura told me you have one in storage... Maybe we could go for a drive sometime?” They eventually decided to stop being silly and settled on walking side by side towards the elevator. 

“Sorry, my bike is in storage for a very good reason,” he pushed the button for the third floor and was subsequently pressed back against the wall by the influx of doctors, nurses, patients and visitors that decided that particular elevator looks _very_ enticing indeed. Not that Stiles minded, to be honest, because having Derek pressed up against him wasn’t entirely an unpleasant experience. The smirk on Derek’s face practically _screamed_ that Derek was thinking the exact same thing.

“Come on, what’s one little ride gonna hurt?” Derek asked when they were finally off the elevator. Stiles held up a finger, telling him to wait where he was before he disappeared behind doors labelled Operating Room Staff Only. He was back minutes later without his cap or the long scrub coat he’d been wearing, now only in his scrubs, nametag glinting against the fluorescent lighting, reading _Dr G. Stilinski M.D, PhD._  

“The last time I rode my bike was when I was an _undergraduate,”_ Stiles said as they walked away from the double doors. “It’s gonna take more than your pretty face to get me on it again,” he chuckled.

“I like a challenge,” Derek’s tone held promise and Stiles felt a shiver work its way down his spine at the thought of how far the other man might go. 

“Come on, Casanova,” he laughed. “You’re buying me lunch, I haven’t eaten in 8 hours.”

“When did you wake up? It’s 12:30 now,” Derek asked, confused.

“I had a transplant donor become available so I’ve been in the hospital since...” he thought about it. “3am? I got a bite before surgery but obviously nothing during or since.”

“You work too hard,” Derek said. “Laura’s always saying it. You have your mother’s work ethic, your entire life is this hospital.”

“That’s not true, about her anyway,” he argued as they stepped onto the elevator heading back down to the ground floor. “She’s home every night with my dad. I would be too,” he admitted with a small grin. “If I had something to go home to on a night. As it happens, all my friends work here so when I _am_ here, I’m not exactly lacking in social interaction.”

“Hmm,” Derek made a noise but didn’t elaborate until they were walking towards the canteen. “You need a life outside the hospital,” he said, sounding very authoritative. 

“I have a life, I went to your mom’s house last week didn’t I?”

“You spent the short amount of time you were there, in the kitchen by yourself, then you snapped at me because you were over tired and I had to carry you home. I don’t think that qualifies as having a _life outside the hospital._ ” He had a point, Stiles was willing to admit that much to himself at least. 

When they were settled down at a table, food in front of them, Stiles eyed him over his latte as he took a sip.

“Is this your round about way of asking me out on a date?” he asked, setting the drink on the table and picking up his fork.

“Like I said, preemptive movements,” Derek shrugged with a small smile, taking a bite of the pasta on his own plate.

 

\---

“So I hear you and my brother had lunch today,” Laura was standing at the door of his office, arms folded over her chest, looking like she’d won the biggest prize at the county fair. Stiles just rolled his eyes, gesturing her inside and finishing off a notation on one of his charts. He waited until she was sat down before putting his pen down and giving her his full attention.

“We had lunch,” he confirmed slowly and she made a noise that could, no doubt, be heard only by those of a canine persuasion. “What’s your obsession with us? He said you’d spoke of nothing but all week...”

“You both need someone _else_ in your lives,” she answered after a short, thoughtful silence. “He has his pack, and they’re all good kids, he looks after them, makes sure they get to classes, makes sure they know how to defend themselves, they’re _good kids._ ”

“Isaac told me you helped get him on his feet...”

“Isaac was a tough one,” she sighed, good humour leaving her. “I don’t know what he’s told you but before I met him, just after he met Derek, his home life wasn’t... your dad knows anyway. Isaac’s dad was a bastard who now has no rights to Isaac at all. His mom died years ago and his dad took his grief out on Isaac. It took him a while to put himself back together again but the pack helped, Derek helped. Erica wasn’t as bad a case but she had it bad, Boyd... I think Boyd just wanted to belong somewhere. He wanted to matter. The twins came to Derek for help - they were part of a... gang, you could say, and they wanted help. They’d heard of Derek’s penchant for helping those in need and asked - because that’s all you can really do in the end. Ask for help and if it’s offered, take it,” she shrugged and Stiles nodded. “If you think of my family like...” she made a show of thinking up an analogy. “A pack of wolves,” she ended on and Stiles couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, amused. She flashed him a quick grin and continued. “My mom would be the alpha of our family pack, but _under_ her... there’s Derek, who’s the alpha of his own pack but will always defer to our mom because she knows more, you see?” Stiles nodded again. “My cousin Frankie, she’s a year older than me, she’d be another alpha under my mom’s purview, as it were. Together we’re the Hale clan, separately, we take care of our own packs. I don’t have my own, obviously,” she patted her swollen belly and Stiles shot her a fond look.

“Stands to reason,” Stiles said finally. “You’d be taking over from your mom should the worst happen, wouldn’t you?” he cocked his head to the side, eyebrow raised and Laura gave him a long, considering look, before she smiled, nodding her head in an affirmative. “I can understand Derek’s role as an _alpha_ ,” he made a vague gesture with his hands. “Residency,” he started. “We enter our residency as an omega, we’re all alone, we’re in a race for the top, we’re there to succeed but we learn soon enough that in order to succeed, we need to work together, to have each other’s backs - we become betas, we’re a pack and our alpha is, at first, our resident - the fourth or final year resident put in charge of us. Then they become the alpha of alphas, like your mom with your cousin and Derek, because us betas get a group of omegas that we can mould into packs of our own, that reflect back onto us. I’m stretching that analogy way farther than I’d intended to but I know what it is to have that level of responsibility, and I admire anyone that does it. From what I’ve heard about Derek, I have a lot of respect for what he does and how he helps people, even if he’s socially constipated at times,” Laura let out a bark of laughter at that and he grinned. “He’s hot, that certainly doesn’t hurt matters, but this last week I’ve heard you waxing poetic about his good deeds, his sparkling wit, him being completely _enamoured_ with me,” he rolled his eyes at her innocent look. “And it’s hard _not_ to think of what’s possible, but even though we’re on this road...” he made another vague hand gesture. “I want to take it slow because I can’t do that kind of emotion and get burned again, I did that once and it took me ages to get back from it.”

“Slow is fine,” Laura said instantly. “Derek’s had a bit of trouble with love before, I’m sure he’ll tell you the story, but he doesn’t trust anyone new at all. The fact that he seems so taken with you has _honestly_ shocked us all.”

“Laura, all I did was not take any of his crap,” he laughed, picking up his pen and tapping it against the desk. “I don’t think Erica liked me much for challenging Derek’s authority,” he went on and Laura snorted.

“Don’t worry about Erica, she knows her place, she just needs reminding of it every now and then.” At Stiles’ prompting brow raise she waved him off. “She’s probably jealous that you caught Derek’s eye where she couldn’t beyond that of, to go back to the analogy, his beta.”

There was a knock at the door and they both looked towards it to see Scott stood there with Laura’s mother, of all people, three large folders tucked neatly in his arms. Stiles gestured them both inside, taking the folders when Scott was close enough. 

“Mrs Hale asked if she could see you in your office?” Scott said. “I saw Laura heading here earlier so I thought you wouldn’t mind so much?”

“That’s fine, thanks, bro,” Scott grinned and they bumped fists before he left the room, closing the door behind him. “Mrs Hale,” he greeted, stepping out from behind his desk and pulling her into a hug. “Have you come to offer me food? I’ll do anything for your food,” he grinned as she laughed, patting his cheek lightly and taking the seat beside her daughter while Stiles retook his own. He opened his mouth to speak again but she held up a hand.

“If you apologise _again_ for last week, I’ll not cook you another thing ever again.” He snapped his mouth shut and out and out _pouted_ , much to their very vocal amusement. “I’m actually here to invite you over for dinner _with_ the family this time, instead of in the kitchen alone doing paperwork while half asleep,” her eyes were sparkling with amusement and he smiled, genuinely touched. 

His history with the Hales had been, admittedly, limited to Laura and Mrs Hale - more recently Derek too - but whenever they’d been talking they’d always gotten along well. They both shared a passion for cooking, though Stiles didn’t have much time for it these days, and they both took their jobs seriously. While Stiles was a surgeon, Mrs Hale thought of her family as her job; she raised them, took care of them, watched over them with every fibre of her being and it showed in how they interacted with one another, from the limited view that Stiles had had at any rate, he could tell she was a strong, capable woman who was true to herself and her family. She really was an alpha of alphas.

“It’s _Talia_ , dear, you know this,” Mrs Hale - _Talia_ , insisted and he blushed, but smiled, nodding his head.

“Okay, Talia, I’d love to come for dinner. I’ll even try to get myself _not_ on call that evening.”

“Good! Now that that’s settled, would you be a dear and direct me to your mother’s office?” Her eyes were doing the samba and he froze in his seat, staring at her, mouth slightly agape. “Stiles?” she pressed and he shook himself.

“Um,” _eloquent_ Stiles. “Why... would you be interested in speaking with my mom?” he asked, then backtracked. “I mean, not that-”

“Stiles?” Talia’s smile was warm, indulgent, and mischievous and Stiles was so _gone_.

“Yes?” he said slowly, cautious.

“You and my son are, for lack of a better word, _courting_.”

“Mom!” Laura cried through a laugh but Talia ignored her.

“Oh my god,” Stiles murmured to himself, behind his hands. “This is not happening to me.” Laura was laughing silently behind a hand and Stiles shot her a dirty look that, again, Talia ignored.

“And I would like to get to know my son’s future mother-in-law.”

“ _Oh my GOD!”_ Stiles groaned, letting his head drop onto his desk with a loud ‘thunk’, just as the door to his office opened.

“Stiles, what on earth are you doing?” his mother’s voice reached his ears and he wanted to disappear underneath his desk.

“Oh my god,” he whispered into his paperwork. “Oh my god.”

“Doctor Stilinski!” Talia was beaming, he could _hear_ the beam in her tone. Beaming smiles were happening. “I don’t think we’ve met but my name is Talia Hale, I’m Laura’s mother? And-”

“Oh! You’re Derek’s mother too!” his mother was beaming.

_Everyone was beaming._

He sent a text to Derek when he was on his way home later that evening.

‘ _The mothers have met, we should’ve eloped when we had the chance. FYI - I’m not wearing a damn dress.’_

He got a text while he was driving and scowled, throwing his phone in the back seat without replying.

_‘What if I ask nicely?’_

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Stiles wasn’t a stupid man, not by far.

He’d seen enough and experienced enough while at college to be pretty open minded. Hell, he’d seen enough and experienced enough while in _Beacon Hills_ to be even more open minded. The point was, he was open minded, knowledgeable, a certifiable genius who just happened to have an eidetic memory - so his genius was always under fire but he didn’t care, he knew what he was, he could remember all his studies, everyone he’d ever met, ever experience he’d ever had...

When he first met Talia Hale she wasn’t exactly... how can he word it without being disrespectful... _human_. That’s not to say she didn’t have her own mind, she most certainly did. But she was most _definitely_ not human. She was, in all honesty, a wolf.

More precisely, a _werewolf_.

It puts Laura’s analogy into perspective, doesn’t it?

When he was 6, he’d wandered off away from his parents while they were camping in the preserve and he’d happened upon _something_. At the time, he had no idea what was going on, he just saw a wolf, fighting with a fully grown man who didn’t look like a man as much as he looked like a monster from one of the old movies his dad sometimes watched after Stiles had been put to bed. The man had hair on his face (not a beard!), his face was deformed, his teeth were sharp like a dogs and his eyes... his eyes were ice blue and when he caught sight of Stiles watching, numb, at the tree line, he pounced, hands spread out, claws on the tips of each finger, and he roared, with malice and Stiles, frightened as he was, couldn’t move a muscle. He stood, frozen stiff until a louder roar penetrated his eardrums and he gasped, jumped and lunged forward but to the _side,_ away from the path of the man attacking him and as soon as he landed, he turned over to see the wolf that had been attacking the man before _leap_ over Stiles in one bound and start tearing at the man/monster’s throat until the man/monster fell to the ground, gurgling and rasping. 

Hindsight offered Stiles the opportunity to think back on it as being one of the single most traumatic experiences of his childhood, but he never went into shock or had ptsd. At most, he figured, it triggered the start of his panic attacks.

When the man.monster had stopped moving at all, Stiles watched as the wolf turned on him, it’s eyes glowing bright red in the dark of the fall evening and he froze again, his own eyes wide, terrified, but the fear was ill placed.

The wolf took one step forward and it started to _change._ Stiles watched the wolf become a woman! A human woman! He’d seen her shift from the wolf to the woman now crouched in front of him, not a stitch of clothing on her, but no other care about her other than that of his own well being. 

_“Did he hurt you?”_ she whispered with urgency. _“Are you hurt? Did he hurt you child?”_ she kept whispering until he finally shook his head, eyes still wide as she relaxed her shoulders, relief pouring off her in waves. _“What’s your name, child?”_ she asked him but he couldn’t speak. She hadn’t held it against him, only smiled. _“I am Talia Hale,”_ she spoke gently, trying not to spook him further. _“What you just saw, will you tell anyone, child?”_ she asked and it took him a moment to understand the question and he stared back at her, shaking his head a negative, quite certain that no one would ever know what happened if he could help it. She had saved his life, but she had also taken someone elses. Stiles didn’t want his dad arresting her, with the mind of a child, he couldn’t let his policeman daddy take away his thusly named _guardian angel wolf_. He was only six at the time, names weren’t a creative priority. _“Where are your parents?”_ she spoke again, firm in her belief that no, he would not speak. Stiles had shakily lifted an arm and pointed in the general direction of where he’d come from and she moved, slowly, towards him and reached out her hands so she could pick him up. 

Unconcerned with her lack of clothing, she lifted him easily, holding him to her body tightly, protecting him, and she walked them both away from the scene of the man/monster’s death.

_“I expect you’ll block this memory from your mind,_ ” she mused softly as she walked. _“Most do,”_ she went on. _“It would take someone of great strength of character to live with this for the rest of their lives as an adult - but as a child, it may be too much. I wish you had not seen me doing that, even if I did it to protect you.”_ Stiles, as a child, was amazed. She was talking to him like his mom spoke to his dad, as an equal, and it made her even better in his eyes. 

She’d left him a little way away from the camp and had waited in the brush until his mother started speaking to him, asking him where he’d been adventuring off to this time.

So no, Stiles was by no means a stupid man, nor was he ignorant of the world and what goes on after dark. What he was, however, was willing to let this new family he seemed to be setting himself up with tiptoe around him as though he may break should he learn the truth.

If he were honest, he hadn’t really been certain about Laura’s status before their conversation in his office. He had known her immune system was nigh unbeatable, but that could be explained away by having Talia as a mother - even if she hadn’t received the werewolf gene, Talia’s influence might have been strong enough to boost Laura’s immune system. The way she spoke of packs to him that day however, sold Stiles on her status. It made him relieved actually, knowing she had that power behind her, she could take care of herself in any situation. 

Her husband _had_ to know. Stiles had met him a few times and from what he could remember, which was everything, he caught tiny gestures, nuzzling, movements to show he was deferring to her, her higher status. He supposed, looking on it as someone without the in depth knowledge of the Hales, you might infer that they were simply very affectionate. Stiles wasn’t certain that Laura’s husband was a wolf, but he was certain he’d spent enough time around them and their tactile nature to learn their ways and adapt to them to keep his wife happy. It was obvious they were ridiculously in love, which made Stiles wonder about the possible existence of _mates_. If he had the time, he’d launch himself into a research project, but he hardly had time to sleep let alone research anything and perform his duties as a doctor effectively. So he figured he’d wait it out, learn the slow way.

After all, it was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?

 

\---

“You have this, and you drive that death machine?” Stiles gaped. He wasn’t proud to admit it but he wouldn’t dispute the fact. He was gaping. Mouth open, eyes wide, honest to god _gaping._ “This, Derek, is a work of art, oh my god. How are you even real?” he murmured without paying much attention as he walked around the car currently parked just behind his own.

“This was a present from my parents when I turned 21,” Derek rolled his eyes, but to Stiles’ ears he sounded amused so he didn’t need to do any damage control just yet.

“If you drove this more often, I wouldn’t call your little pack the Hells Angels Rejects anymore,” Stiles quipped, a teasing edge to his tone to match the smile twitching at the corner of his lips. He caught Derek’s eye and chuckled at his ‘put upon’ look. “If you drove this more, you wouldn’t be _as_ likely to get into an accident like Isaac did...” he tried, because he was a little shit and he knew that if Derek ever was hurt by such an accident, he wouldn’t be hurt for long.

“My bones are a little tougher than Isaac’s," he said with a small chuckle and he walked around the car to stand in front of Stiles, leaning into him, pressing him against the car and for a hot second, Stiles thought he was going to be _kissed_ (he wouldn’t have minded!), but Derek just smirked and opened the passenger side door, holding it open and stepping back to allow Stiles to get in.

“Just for that,” he said. “You’ll be lucky if you get a kiss goodnight later,” he harrumphed and slid inside the Camaro, which was as beautiful inside as it was outside. “You’re such a tragedy,” he lamented as Derek slid into the driver’s seat. The man paused and his expression prompted an explanation but Stiles just shrugged. “I’d find you infinitley hotter and a _lot_ more stable if you drove this instead of your bike.” Understanding, Derek rolled his eyes and fired up the engine. At Stiles’ groan, he just turned to stare.

“Would you like me to leave you two alone for a while?”

“Are you kidding?” Stiles asked. “She’s a proper lady, she needs fine dining and old school _courting_ before we take it to the next level.”

“We are not having a conversation about you possibly dating my car.”

“You suggested it,” Stiles shrugged, unconcerned with how ridiculous he sounded. “Whatever, I get her in the divorce if it comes to that. You obviously don’t appreciate her enough.”

“My car does _not_ have a sex. It is _not_ a _she!”_ Derek said emphatically, and the car promptly stalled.

“She didn’t like that at all,” Stiles grinned and leaned forward to stroke the dash, patting it gently. “Don’t worry about grumpy guts over there girl, I know your true worth. Just you wait, I’ll get him to pay more attention one way or another.” He sat back and waited. Derek turned the engine over and he roared to life once more. “Good girl,” he whispered, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing at the annoyed look on Derek’s face. “She just needs a little love and attention, Derek,” he lectured.

“Like you?” Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles could feel his cheeks heating up a little.

“Play your cards right, you might just find out.”

Without another word, they drove away from Stiles’ loft. 

Their meal at the fanciest restaurant in Beacon Hills was lovely, Stiles and his parents were frequent visitors, and he’d actually recommended it to Derek when talk of the date had first come up. Meal eaten, wine drunk and everything paid for, _by Derek_ , he was insistent, they left the parking lot and Stiles didn’t mention that Derek shouldn’t really be driving after having had three glasses of wine. He seemed stone cold sober though so he assumed it was a metabolism thing. Maybe werewolves run hot.

After driving around town and talking about anything and everything, they ended up parked up down the street from _Jungle_ , Beacon Hills’ _only_ gay bar. When he was out of the car, he saw Derek reaching into the glove compartment, raising an eyebrow when the man straightened up and slipped something into his pocket before locking the car up tight.

“Earplugs,” he said by way of explanation and, okay, Stiles could see how that would be an issue for werewolves. “Sensitive hearing,” he grunted as if he were explaining his life story. Stiles just grinned and took his hand.

The gay community in Beacon wasn’t so large that there was a line outside, but there was still a barrier and two hulking bouncers, who took one look at them as they approached and grinned.

“Finally agreed to let someone take you out, Mr Stilinski?” one of the bouncers chuckled, unhooking the barrier as they stepped up to it. Stiles just beamed at him.

“Our parents are on the verge of planning our wedding, we figured we’d jump ahead of their schedule,” he shook the hands of both bouncers and pulled a confused Derek inside, obligingly waiting for his date to put his earplugs in first. “Want a drink?” he asked as they entered the dimly lit warehouse space-turned-nightclub. Derek shrugged.

“Soda?” he suggested and Stiles agreed. Tonight of all nights he didn’t want to be caught drunk. He had a date to impress and work in the morning. 

The rest of their night was spent meandering between the dancefloor and the bar, propping it up between songs they liked the beats of. When they _were_ on the dance floor, there was barely a hairs breadth between them as they rocked back and forth, grinding against each other, arms holding the other close. They never kissed on the lips, but Stiles, ever eager to show his willingness, or willing to just lose himself in Derek’s presence, he tilted his head back, practically _offering_ Derek his throat, teasing him. Derek had managed not to react physically the first two times Stiles had done it and inwardly, Stiles had been a little disappointed, but he was nothing if not persistent, so he tried for a third time, laughing loud and brightly when he felt the growl bubble up in Derek’s chest, reverberating so much that Stiles could _feel_ the vibrations through his own chest as Derek _finally_ leaned down and ran his nose down the line of Stiles’ throat. 

Stiles moved one hand from where it had been wrapped around Derek’s neck up and fisted it in Derek’s hair, holding his head in place and even putting pressure on it, on Derek, to do something. 

_“Come on,”_ he said so low against Derek’s ear that, had Derek been human, he wouldn’t have heard it at all. “Don’t you want to mark me? So everyone knows I’m yours?” Stiles was high on the situation, endorphins rushing through his body, lighting up every touch, every breath, every beat of the music in the air. He felt lips finally press against his neck and smirked, pushing back and spinning around so his back was pressed to Derek’s front. His hand was still in Derek’s hair, the other clutching at the arm suddenly around his waist and he tipped his head back against Derek’s shoulder, mouth draw into a near blissed out smile, eyes closed and he just _felt._

 

\---

The morning after when he walked into work, he grabbed Allison before she could disappear to the nurses station and dragged her back into the locker room, removed the scarf from around his neck and pointed at the dark, _dark_ hickey staining his once unmarred skin. She gasped, gaped, and nearly collapsed laughing until eventually, she calmed down and agreed to help him cover it up. 

When Derek brought Isaac in for his check up that afternoon, he smirked at the marks, that were now visible because twenty minutes after he walked out of the locker room, he realised he couldn’t go into the OR wearing make up. _His life!_ His shirt covered them when he wasn’t in scrubs but when he was...

When Laura tracked him down at 5:30, she spent ten minutes laughing at him and he was almost, _almost_ worried about her oxygen levels.

His mom told him to take two days off until he could at least put a dressing over it during OR time.

_His. Life._

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

He woke up with his alarm at 6:30 the following morning and had actually gotten up, showered and was just about to dress in his suit when he realised he wasn’t actually going to work for the next two days. And nearly screamed because seriously, he could be _sleeping_ now. Then came the realisation that nothing was stopping him from going back to sleep, so he collapsed back on the bed in just his towel and went back to sleep, waking up two hours later when he heard his doorbell go.

Grumbling about stupid early morning callers and don’t they _know_ he was normally at work at this time? He was just about to curse the marking tendencies of werewolves when he opened the door and froze.

“You couldn’t have been a little _less_ subtle, dear?” Talia chastised her son, who was stood right next to her, not even a trace of regret in his stupid smirking face, and Stiles had an urge, a rebellious urge, to just shut the door and go back to bed. An urge that was quashed half a second later when Derek pushed open the door, freeing it from Stiles’ grasp, and walking his mother into the loft. “Will you be getting dressed before we go out, Stiles?” Talia asked, eyes sparkling and Stiles knew she was enjoying his discomfort. He couldn’t blame her really. He’d do the same in her position.

“Where are we going?” he asked, closing the door finally and leaning back against it, revelling in the cool wood against his flushed skin.

“Well,” she started and rattled off a list that included grocery shopping for dinner that night, a trip to the mall and a picnic at the park that Derek may or may not be present for, she hadn’t decided yet. Stiles was impressed and eventually, after not a lot of deliberating time, pushed himself away from the door and moved back towards his room.

“I won’t be long,” he said as he walked. “Make yourself at home,” he waved and disappeared.

Their day went as she planned it and Stiles had to admit that being around people he didn’t have to work with was refreshing. Mrs Hale didn’t even mentioned his almost relationship with her son beyond the comment that morning, instead she focussed on telling him bits and pieces of information about her family that he retorted with bits and pieces of information about his own, Derek putting in his two cents worth every so often. The afternoon picnic had been the most interested aspect of the day he thought, by far. She’d decided that they need alone time and sent Derek off. The man had rolled his eyes but acquiesced, kissing her cheek, kissing Stiles’ cheek and adding a small grin for effect before he left them alone to set up their little picnic.

“He seems remarkably taken by you,” she said a few minutes later and he assumed he was out of earshot so he took the cue.

“He’s a good guy,” Stiles shrugged. “I like him.”

“But how much, dear?” she pressed.

“I know that everyone seems to be unusually invested in this happening,” he started. “But the last relationship I had ended very badly for me, however fast or slow we go should be left up to us to figure out.” He didn’t want to get annoyed with her, they’d had a lovely day and he did really like her, but too many people were taking too great-an-interest in his love life lately and it was grating on his last nerve. She must have sensed something because she just smiled and changed the subject. They spoke about nothing and everything for a while until they ended up laying back on the grass, side by side.

“I know you don’t want to talk about you and Derek, and I’ll respect that, but I have to ask as his mother... if there were something... _more_ , to him, than you know about I mean... Something potentially life altering for you should you decide that making a go of it with Derek is the best option.”

_Ah,_ he thought. They were going to have _that_ conversation. He just smiled.

“Do you remember,” he stared. “About... 22... 23years ago, up in the preserve. Half moon, clear skies... there was a _man_ , though I hesitate to call him a man. In my head I called him a man/monster, because seriously, I was six years old and he tried to kill me... anyway, there was a wolf there, with him, fighting him, before he attacked me. When the monster noticed me, launched himself at me, I dodged, fell down and watched the wolf tear this monster to shreds. Like... literally. All in the name of protecting me - I imagined, for years. Then the wolf turned to me, and _changed_. It was the strangest thing!” He paused and licked his dry lips before reaching out and taking her hand in his. “I called you my guardian angel wolf up until the day Laura first introduced us,” he grinned. “Never told anyone, didn’t see the point. You saved my life, you deserved a bit of anonymity.”

“You remember...” she was staring at him and he shrugged.

“Eidetic memory,” he smiled. “I didn’t mention it when I first met Laura or when I met you again because I didn’t know either of you and when I got to know Laura better, I realised that my announcing that I knew wouldn’t be taken very well, so I figured I’d wait until the information was offered to me, by which time I’d hoped we’d know one another more. And we do... kinda.”

“Have you done any research, then? I mean, I’m assuming you have had thoughts on what having a relationship with my son may mean for you...” She was sitting up again and he released her hand so he could mimic her position, facing her.

“When would I have time to research?” he laughed. “If I’m not at the hospital, I’m sleeping or with my family. Realistically, I figured I’d end up with someone married to their job, turns out I found someone while _at_ my job. I can only hope he doesn’t mind my weird hours.”

“I’m sure he won’t,” she smiled, taking his hands in hers this time. “But I meant... as far as Derek’s pack goes - you would be his equal, even though you are not one of us - but that’s an option for you if you want it.” Stiles was already shaking his head though.

“Unless it’s a last resort,” he said firmly. “I want to remain human. As much as I admire you and what you are, how you helped me when I was a kid... I can’t take the risk that, with what I do at the hospital, it wouldn’t become an issue at some point. I could get a cut during surgery, I could become overly emotional, children might react to me differently, there are too many variables right now so, unless I’m in a near fatal accident and the only way to save me would be by turning me... I don’t want to risk it. I _can’t_ risk it.” She was nodding, smiling, taking no offense whatsoever and he let out a relieved sigh.

“I’ll let Derek go over the intricacies of running a pack as his partner,” she grinned. “But I don’t suspect he’ll be put off by your reluctance to become one of us. It’s not for everyone.”

“Will you be telling your family that I know?”

“As the alpha, it is my duty to inform them when someone learns of our secret. I suspect they will become more relaxed around you whenever you’re around. There is an open invitation by the way!” her grin was infectious and Stiles started chuckling. “If you want to stop by after work and eat or just do paperwork, you are more than welcome!”

They spent another hour in the park before Derek showed up again.

 

\---

“I hear you got a special someone these days,” Allison cooed as she was helping him debrid a burns victims back. He saw her eyes sparkling and her cheekbones twitching behind her mark, telling him she was grinning at him and he rolled his eyes, going back to removing dead flesh and shrapnel from the patient. “Got signed, sealed and delivered parental approval too, on both sides, quite rare,” she went on, delicately placing treated gauze on the already debrided parts of the wound.

“Danny already spent twenty minutes trying to get me to talk, as if this thing,” he pointed to his neck. “Wasn’t advertisement enough,” he muttered.

“Someone’s a sourpuss today,” Allison huffed and he sighed behind his mask. 

“Everyone has an opinion,” he said quietly. “We haven’t even kissed and everyone is already planning our nuptials.”

“To be fair, you already inserted yourself into the family; didn’t you name yourself Godfather to Laura’s unborn child?”

“That’s different. There’s just... it’s just a lot. I’m not saying I don’t want to, I do, very much so, I just... it’s like we’re there, but we can’t find our own way _there_... if that makes sense,” he sighed again.

“I get it,” Allison, bless her, she was too sweet for words. “You want to make your own relationship work on your own schedule... I understand completely.” They were silent for a few minutes before she snorted. “You could always elope,” she suggested and he laughed.

“ _Right?”_

When the burns patient had been sent away and Allison had gone back to her shift, Stiles made his way to the ER where he saw Lydia stood at the desk chatting with one of the Paeds fellows.

“Slumming, Jackson?” Stiles asked and the pair spun around, staring at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t think you’d ever pass up your kids for this again. If you’re looking for more ER shifts I’m sure I could accomodate...” he grinned as Jackson rolled his eyes.

“I’m on my lunch,” he muttered.

“But Doctor Martin isn’t. I’m sorry to be a buzzkill, you know I am, but... there are patients waiting,” he obligingly turned his head away while Jackson leaned down to kiss Lydia’s cheek before nodding at Stiles and leaving. Lydia huffed and walked away, probably cursing him under her breath but he was beyond caring.

“Ouch,” he heard and turned to see Danny sat behind the desk again.

“Is this your default position in this hospital? Because I’m almost _certain_ my mom and I reviewed your boards scores and we hired you as one of the top Cardio fellows in the state...” Danny shrugged, grinning.

“I like the ER. I miss the rush of residency. Plus, the dark scrubs means I get to boss the residents around,” they shared a laugh and Danny handed over a chart for him. “I actually just got out of a bypass surgery, needed to unwind.”

“You’re just terrified the newbies will screw up your filing system.”

“I try and teach them! They never listen!” Danny called out as Stiles walked away, and Stiles laughed, waving the chart behind him and heading to the cubicle. He pulled the curtain back and his eyes widened. 

“PAGE JACKSON NOW!” he shouted, tossing the chart on the bed and rushing to the patient, who had been turning blue as she tried to gasp for air. Two nurses suddenly appeared and helped him get the girl flat, pillows removed and he shifted the bed. He was about to move behind it when Jackson arrived and quickly inserted himself, trying to get the airway down her throat.

“It’s blocked,” Jackson swore.

“Trac kit,” Stiles ordered and he steralised the area around her throat, let the nurses put a mask on him before taking the scalpel. His eyes found Jackson’s and he took a breath before pressing down.

“Did she come in with anyone?” Jackson asked Danny, who had been stood at the end of the bed, watching intently as stiles inserted the trac tube. Jackson observed, murmuring suggestions more out of habit than for any advice that could be of use to Stiles but the noise helped him steady his hands so he didn’t make a fuss over it.

“One of the medics said she was dropped off by a car but no one came in with her. I was calling social when Stiles first got the chart.”

“Jackson,” Stiles prompted, gesturing to marks on her throat, brought up with the steralising agent. Jackson checked the girls’ pupillary responses when her breathing calmed down. He checked her airways visibly, frowning at the deep red, inflamed flesh he saw. “I’ll order a CT and X-Ray,” Stiles said. “Will you take her up to paeds when she’s stable? We can figure out who she is when she can breathe on her own.”

“Doctor Stilinski,” one of the nurses said and he looked back at her, to where she was holding up the girls arm. His eyes widened as he saw the ligature bruising on her wrists. A look at Danny prompted the other doctor into action and her ankles were soon revealed to have similar bruising.”

“Someone call my dad," he sighed.

“Are we sure she’s underage?” Danny asked, frowning down at the chart. “She didn’t give me much information but she sounded very... not a minor.”

“Until we know otherwise, we’re going on her looks,” Stiles said with authority. “Which means she’s going to paeds until we can get answers. Can you put her in one of the iso rooms? I’ll let my mom and Laura know we may have a probono,” he said the last bit quietly and the doctors and nurses around him nodded. “Sorry to interrupt your lunch, Jackson.” He said as he tore off the mask and gloves he’d been wearing. Across the bed, Jackson snorted.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been on post-ops for a week and a half. This is the most action I’ve had since the Paeds attending wrote me up for insubordination,” he was rolling his eyes and Stiles chuckled. “Go, I’m good here. I’ll let you know when she’s in iso.”

“Thanks man,”

“Did you just save that girls life?” A tiny voice asked as Stiles started walking away and he stopped to turn and saw a little boy sat in the cubicle beside the one he’d just been in, cradling his arm to his chest. His mom, Stiles assumed, was sat beside him, one hand on his leg, the other thumbing through a magazine. When Stiles stopped, she looked up and graced him with a tired smile.

“I did,” Stiles finally answered. “But I had a lot of help. The nurses in this place are great, y’know,” he smiled. “And Doctor Whittemore is one of the best Doctors with children, just like you, that we have.” he leaned in to stage whisper. “We used to think he was a bit stuck up, but now we think he’s alright.”

_“I heard that Stilinski,”_ Jackson played along and Stiles winked at the kid, who giggled _carefully_.

“Danny?” he turned around, laughing when Danny was already there, holding the chart out for him to take.

“This ER is _my_ baby,” Danny said firmly. “I know all,” he winked and left as Stiles turned back to the boy. 

“Now, Harry, my name is Stiles, but if you have to, you can call me _Doctor Stiles,”_ he settled on the side of the bed. “What have you done to your arm?”

“I fell,” Harry mumbled, suddenly shy.

“He was climbing a tree with my eldest,” the woman sounded as tired as she looked but her exasperation had a fond edge to it. “I was on the porch gardening and I heard the scream. Daniel, my eldest, twisted his own ankle trying to jump down to get to Harry quickly, my husband took him home a few hours ago... Harry’s been waiting on an X-Ray to see if he’s broken it.”

“And it’s not deemed a priority,” his smile was sympathetic. “I know, I’m sorry about that. We’re the only trauma centre for miles and we get the backlog of the nearest hospital - which is thirty miles west in San Francisco. I’ll try help as best I can though.” he shifted until he was a little closer and reached out, almost touching the arm when he heard his name. He pulled back and turned to see Jackson stood holding a chart and a pen.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, handing the items to Stiles. “Can you co-sign off on the CT and X-Ray order?”

“You just want half of it to come out of my budget,” he joked and Jackson rolled his eyes, but smiled despite himself. He signed the papers and handed them back, waving Jackson off and turning back to Harry.

“You must be important,” Harry said firmly and Stiles raised an eyebrow as he examined the arm, which was slightly discoloured, with something jutting up against the dermis, probably bone.

“Oh? And why do you think that?” he asked, taking his light and checking the kid’s pupils to rule out possible shock symptoms.

“You had to _sign_ something,” Harry’s tone was very matter-of-fact. “Only important people have to sign things.”

“A lot of people have to sign things,” he said. “When you get a cast on this arm, everyone who signs it...  they’ll all be really important because they’re _signing_ your cast.”

“That’s not the same thing,” the boy pouted.

“It kinda is,” Stiles chuckled. “But, just between us two guys,” he stage whispered again. “I am pretty important,” he winked and the kid giggled. “The only people more important than me in this _whole_ hospital right now, are you and your mom. Because you’re my patient, and for a doctor, the patient is the only thing that matters. Y’see? It doesn’t matter that I might own half the hospital or that I pay other doctors to work here... that doesn’t mean anything because they’re not my patients, you are. And that makes you number one right here, right now. And that also means I’m going to my best to get you into X-Ray and sorted out very quickly, okay?” Harry beamed at him, nodding his head and his mom looked relieved, thankful and exhausted, btu he understood.

“Your luck is in, kid,” Danny was back with a wheelchair and a bright smile. “An slow just opened up. Your guardian angel here has magic powers that makes whoever he treats his top most priority so, even if he doesn’t ask for it, what he wants.. just gets done. Like this,” Harry was babbling about the awesomeness of Doctors while Danny helped him down from the bed.

“You didn’t push anyone back for this did you?” Harry’s mom asked and Danny laughed.

“No, don’t worry about it, Ma’am. It was Harry’s turn. The break looks severe enough to warrant it now.” 

“Will you be here when we come down Doctor Stiles?” Harry looked back at him and Stiles grinned, nodding. 

“Course I will!” he waved and they disappeared around the corner.

“You’re... _good_... with patients,” a voice said when he settled down behind the desk and he looked up, giving Lydia a look to tell her to continue. “Better than most surgeons I mean, you’re _good_ with them.”

“I’m a doctor,” Stiles shrugged.

“So am I, I’m like Christina Yang from Grey’s Anatomy though... a genius, not very socially orientated.”

“What does that make me? Meredith Grey?”

“Are you kidding?” She snorted and reached down to grab another chart. “You’re McDreamy,” and flounced off.

“I’m not taking you fishing!” he called out, ignoring her laughter.

Waiting around for two hours after his shift had ended gave Stiles a chance to get a bit of paperwork done and as soon as he saw Harry and his mother walking out of the elevator (Harry in a wheelchair), he grinned, packing up his stuff and meeting them at the entrance of the hospital.

“Very cool,” Stiles complimented the camo design of the cast. 

“Can you sign it, Doctor Stiles?” Harry asked, holding up a sharpie already and Stiles chuckled but obligingly knelt down to sign the cast.

“See?” he winked. “Anyone signing your cast is important,” they shared another grin and he stood up. “You should let your mom sign it loads. She’s been here with you the _whole_ time hasn’t she? Hero material if you ask me...” he watched Harry stare up at his mom in a new light and she laughed, blushing as she reached out to ruffle his hair. “Did they give you a slip for the cab company?” he asked her when they were outside the hospital and she nodded, holding it up. “Good. Not to be rude or anything, but you look like you’re about to drop.” She laughed.

“Oh don’t worry about it, hon, I know exactly how I look.” They chatted for a few minutes until her cab arrived and he waited until they were gone before heading to his car.

He’d just connected his phone to the wireless headset when it started to ring. Hitting answer, he reversed out of his space and started to make his way out of the carpark.

“Hello,” he said in a loud voice.

_“Stiles!”_ he heard and frowned.

“Laura?” she sounded scared - but that couldn’t be right. “Laura? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

“I’m fine, Stiles... can you come to my moms house? Please... bring your kits if you have them.. anything, everything. Stiles _please_ ,” she was crying. Laura, his beautiful smiley happy friend Laura, was _crying_. 

“Okay Laura, I’m on my way. What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

_“A rival pack,”_ she sobbed. _“Just hurry, please...”_

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Stiles arrived at the Hale house it was _chaos_. He was stood in the foyer, large medic bag over one shoulder, two smaller ones in both hands and he stared. The Hale family home looked like it had been ransacked; glass everywhere, upturned tables, potted plants upended, spindles from the staircase railing missing, a large crack running through the bottom three stairs, a man-shaped _dent_ in the foyer wall. 

“STILES!” his head snapped upwards and he saw Talia stood at the top of the stairs. Her eyes were red and he could see the tips of her ears extended. She looked furious, a force to be reckoned with but when she gestured for him to go upstairs, he didn’t hesitate. He took the stairs two at a time and followed her through the maze of corridors until they were inside what appeared to be the master bedroom.

“Oh Jesus,” Stiles breathed. He saw Isaac laid out on the floor on his back, unconscious. Laura’s husband was a few feet away from him, though he was conscious and in obvious pain from the gaping wound in his chest. Laura had a towel over it and was applying pressure, growling at anyone who touched her. Then, just off to the side, was Derek, who had had Boyd on his back, pressure being applied with a towel against what looked like _his entire chest_.

Stiles looked around for idle hands and saw Ethan and his twin brother stood by the window looking so lost.

“You two,” he said and they snapped their attention to him, their eyes glowing ice blue. “Posture later, I need four bowls of hot water, as hot as you can get it. If the bowls are wide, even better. Move,” he added when they just stared.

“Boys,” Talia prompted and they left.

“Who’s worse off?” Stiles asked her.

“Boyd’s find for now, he’s healing but its slow going. The priority is Greg,” she gestured to Laura. “He’s human,” she added and Stiles nodded, handing her one of the smaller kits.

“Can you start disinfecting Boyd’s more severe wounds? Don’t try clean the skin with the wipes, wipe over the wound unless it’s too large. Make sure all the edges are done though.” She nodded without argument, and left him to walk to Laura. He knelt down on Greg’s other side and gently, but firmly, set his hands over hers. He waited for her to look at him and when she did, he gave her a small smile. “Do you want to help?” he asked and her nod was jerky but firm. “Okay. You need to move your hands. The twins will be back soon with hot water. Wash your hands, put a pair of gloves on and come back, okay?” she nodded again and finally, she let go. Stiles put gloves on and moved the towel so he could see the wound.

It was obvious that claws made it; four open gashes were obvious, and then another swipe has been administered, crossing the first and opening up the flesh. He’d lost two clumps completely and would always have a scar, but Stiles figured that was the least of his concerns.

“Isaac’s fitting!” he heard Erica from somewhere behind him and gritted his teeth. 

“You need to get him on his side,” he said sharply, "Don't put anything in his mouth, just hold him down so he doesn’t hurt himself. Got it?” he said, still inspecting Greg’s internals. “When he calms down, make sure he’s breathing properly, check his heart rate and shine the light in the front pocket of my bag in his eyes to check how his pupils are responding.” 

He opened the smaller of his bags and pulled out disinfecting wipes. When he was happy enough, he had Laura back and two bowls of water. He sent the other two towards Talia.

“Erica,” he said slowly. “You need to talk to me about Isaac. Does he have any external injuries? Other than his leg?” he took a breath and slid a gloved finger into Greg’s abdominal cavity, trying to feel for any tears in any organs around the wound area.

“Nothing visible, no blood,” Erica said, voice firm, and he nodded. “His pupils are responding to the light too.”

“Okay. That’s good. You need to keep him on his side until I can get a better look at him. Keep him breathing, keep an eye on his heart rate. If it speeds up or slows down you _need_ to let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” she sounded terrified, but resolute in her job.

“Laura, are there any more injured?” He looked up and saw her breathing heavily, sweat on her brow. “Laura!” he said her name again and her eyes snapped to his. “Are there anymore injured?”

“No, not here,” she said. “Dad, Peter, Cora and Ben were chasing the others away. It was such a mess,” she sniffed. “We tried to keep the humans away but...”

“Okay, it’s okay. I’m gonna do everything I can, okay?” she nodded with him and he began directing her.

He called out instructions to anyone who needed them, talking everyone through each medical process required until finally, two hours later, Greg was wrapped up and ready to be transported to the hospital for further examination and Boyd was stirring.

Then Laura screamed.

It was a guttural scream, one he’d heard many, many times during his gyno rotation during his residency, and he froze.

“What’s going on? Laura!” Erica was shouting, the twins were supporting Laura, settling her back against them, offering their hands for her to squeeze.

“Your baby picks its times doesn’t it?” Stiles asked when he’d eventually snapped out of his stupor and she glared at him. Out and out _glared_. he just rolled his eyes and looked at the twins. “Can you get her up on the bed? Talia... how’s Boyd looking?” he tossed hand towels at the twins to keep Laura’s brow as dry as possible before walking over to where Talia was pulling off her gloves. He crouched down and inspected the work, running his fingers over recently healed wounds but nodding. “Did you feel anything odd inside when I asked you to feel around?”

“No,” she said, she’d said as much the first time. He just needed to make sure. “He had either already healed from whatever damage was caused or there wasn’t anything to begin with.”

Stiles checked Boyd’s eyes and nodded again.

“I can’t claim to be an expert on the healing processes of wolves, but I expect he’ll be fine,” he smiled at Talia. “You did a grand job, Mama Hale,” he winked and she chuckled.

“Thank you for coming when we called.”

“Like I’d be anywhere else on a Friday night,” he rolled his eyes and they stood up together. He watched her go over to her daughter, who’d stopped screaming and was just settling on breathing heavily. He felt someone grasp his hand and looked down to see Derek pressing his forehead against the back of Stiles’ hand.

“Thank you,” he breathed, and Stiles just smiled, cupping Derek’s cheek briefly before he was forced to move away and head towards Isaac, who was, by that point, conscious.

“You, my young friend, are going to spend an _entire night_ at the hospital. Oh yes,” Isaac grimaced but didn’t argue in the face of Erica’s glare and tight grip on his hand. “And you should totally buy blondie some flowers or chocolates or something because she saved your hide tonight. Yeah,” he chuckled when Isaac winced as he started to nod. “Wouldn’t try move your head at all. You probably have a concussion. Any movement will be painful.”

Two ambulances arrived fifteen minutes later, by which time, the missing Hale family members had returned. Stiles had to go with the ambulance carrying Greg while Laura and Isaac were shipped in the second one. Boyd was still inside for obvious reasons but Stiles made sure to toss Derek his car keys before the door closed and felt safe in the knowledge that they’d all be at the hospital not long after the ambulances.

“You have any idea what happened/” the EMT asked and Stiles sighed.

“I arrived just after it happened. They were outside and a mountain lion attacked them from the woods - no notice, no warning. Greg was closest and he got the brunt of it.”

“Mountain lion? You sure?” The EMT looked skeptical but Stiles shrugged.

“Have you _been_ in these woods at night? I once got lost in them when I was a kid and probably would’ve ended up as kitty chow if it hadn’t been for old man Hale.” So he was embellishing a little, a story was a story, right? “There’s no internal lacerations, thank God,” Stiles went on anyway and the EMT didn’t speak again until they were at the hospital.

 

\---

Laura’s labour wasn’t a long one, but it sure as hell looked to be just as painful as any human mother had ever experienced. Talia and Cora were at her side throughout the entire episode, Stiles was monitoring her, keeping her updated on Greg, who had been sent straight into surgery upon arrival to clean up, Stiles’ mom had been happy to help the family after her shift. When the baby eventually arrived, it was 6.4 pounds of scream, red, wrinkly, infant with _girl parts_. She was beautiful and Stiles was instantly smitten. No one but Laura held her though, and no one would until Greg woke up from surgery nearly 12 hours later. They were all proud, they were all in love and Laura was _exhausted_. Stiles owning the hospital meant he could trump protocol (within reason), and he made it so she kept her baby in the room with her - not wanting any unfortunate, if any, spontaneous changes to occur (it happened with Laura apparently - Talia was particularly gleeful when retelling that tale).

With the pack satisfied enough to trudge home and start the cleanup, Stiles told the nurses to call him if _anything_ happened with any of his patients, and he went to find an empty on-call room.

“Hey,” he heard and turned around just as he had been about to head into the room of the sleep (it was a thing). He smiled as Derek strolled towards him. “The kid thinks I have no authority over it,” he grumbled, nudging Stiles onwards into the room as the doctor snorted unattractively. 

“The kid _knows_ it’ll have you wrapped around its tiny pinky within a week. _Trust_ me on that one.” he chuckled and pulled off his shirt, removed his belt and tossed his shoes away.

“You did good tonight,” Derek mimicked him, settling down by the wall and pulling him down so Stiles’ back was flushed against his chest. “You did the pack a great service,” he murmured, letting his arms encircle Stiles as tightly as he dared. “We owe you so much.”

“No you don’t,” Stiles smiled, leaning back and basking in the heat pouring off Derek’s body. “I came because I consider you all family.”

“You came because you’re pack,” he corrected, his nose brushing against the back of Stiles’ neck. “You’re pack. _My_ pack.”

“I’m yours, am I?” eyes closed, Stiles felt his lips twitch as Derek huffed out a laugh.

“All mine. Never letting you go now, Stilinski.”

_“Right there with you.”_ And then, he slept.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

\--EPILOGUE--

Stiles and Derek, ever the couple to disrupt tradition, decided to spring their commitment vows on their friends, family and packs, during the naming ceremony of Laura’s gorgeous baby girl, named Emily Talia. Laura had been the one to originally suggest it because both Talia and Stiles’ own mother were becoming increasingly irritating in their planning and lunch dates.

So they eloped, in their own, non-eloping way.

Stiles never took the bite, he never had to. He and Derek ruled their pack happily, watched as it grew into something to be proud of, something formidable and something Stiles and Derek were happy to call their own.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, what'd you think?
> 
> I won't go into everything that I thought I could alter or rewrite because I'll be here all night and I'd probably just rewrite it all. Maybe I will rewrite it in the future, who knows. I just like the fact that it's _long_.
> 
> Don't ask me to explain why I rated it the way I did either - I don't have a clue. If there are any spelling errors, I'll catch them when I next read it, don't fret and don't point them out. Ima big girl now! I can find 'em myself :)
> 
> Let me know what you think! Good or critical (constructive only please, no one likes haters)
> 
> :)


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